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Entry 8 by Douglas Akhibi

Anyways, as my thoughts wanders, this woman begins to dance. A kind of funny dance, like the one I used to watch on television before I moved to my current abode. Aha! I miss that television ooo. Shaking her big big behind, that behind that is almost as big as mine. Lagos people like free show o, see gatherings, people did not even gather like this the day I bit that woman for calling me “revere sister”

They say am mad, but I have never behaved like this once, not when I even left the house with annoyance. And people clear a path for me when am going to buy indomine from that useless aboki’s place. I just hope that this problem swelling in my stomach does not get noticed by Rosco, because if he takes away that his thing from me am finished oooo!

I think too much self, see this woman has removed the bra with the shine shine things, see crowd, me can’t see well again and I start grumbling and the stupid man blocking me starts shouting “were wa ni bi ooo”, but I am too engrossed to pay him any mind. Especially with this beautiful act of madness taking place right before my naked eyes. As she dances her breasts beautifully shaped like water melon bounces like a basketball up and down, she has even caused a traffic hold up.

She is still dancing near her wares, people surround her, and she is paying no mind. Singing a song I can’t place the lyrics, but it is a Yoruba song. People are so engrossed that they don’t even notice me the alleged mad woman standing next to them; they can’t even smell me, the same woman they cover their nose for when they pass in front of my house.

Aha! She does the unthinkable she removes her clothes, every shred of the remaining and starts running across the road as if a horde of MOPOL are chasing her. Today I finally know that am not mad, I know I am strange o! But mad? Lai lai. It is that woman that is mad.

Am feeling dizzy again what am I going to do with this load growing inside me? I can’t avoid losing Rosco’s magic stick o! God where are you?